


Deadpool and Spidey and Singing

by a_hessdalen_light



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aggressive romcom vibes, Fluff, It's not really a songfic I promise, Karaoke, M/M, No Smut, Peter is an Avenger, Slow build (kinda), The working title was 'what even', enjoy, everyone is happy and no one is fighting, idk why i wrote this, misuse of song lyrics, rating is only for language tbh, wade is an avenger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_hessdalen_light/pseuds/a_hessdalen_light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'“No.” Peter’s eyes widened as he realized what he was saying, “Fuck me. The lyrics. And I winked at Wade. Do you think he..? Of course he does. I asked Wade to fuck me. With a Britney Spears song. In front of everybody. And then he asked to walk me home. And I didn’t even invite him in. No. No, no no no.” Peter had his head in his hands.'</p><p>[Complete]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeking Amy, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic happened because I realized that I had misunderstood a certain Britney Spears song my entire life. It's the first thing I finished in ages, so I'm quite proud of it (regardless of the general silliness). Many thanks to my personal cheerleader and beta for keeping me laughing with google docs comments and not letting me accidentally detach Bucky from his arm (grammar is tricky guys), ily Kay. The fic is done, but I might add a bonus chapter later if I'm feeling it.

Peter stared at his phone in consternation as he  reread the message. It definitely still said what he thought it said. He didn’t know who to blame for this, yet. He would find someone. Tony was at the top of his list of suspects.

Sighing, he read it again and squinted, pinching himself for good measure, ruling out the possibility of a vivid nightmare. The words were definitely there, glowing innocently back at him.

 

**‘Avengers assemble!! Karaoke night every Friday at 7, starting tonight. Mandatory Team Building and stress relief.’**

 

And right below that

‘ _ Location “ _ Harp On, Karaoke Bar _ ” has been saved to device navigation _ ’

 

The message was on their private Stark-secured group chat, so he couldn’t even question its validity. 

 

He wished he could reply, the confused emoji would truly shine in this particular situation, but they had all lost any talking privileges after what was lovingly referred to as #pundisaster2k15. Deadpool had been involved.

 

Peter supposed he could just show up and sit at the back, perhaps mock Cap and Bucky’s inevitable romantic duet. Deadpool would definitely be down for some banter. They couldn’t force him to sing, right?

 

A few hours, a long shower and a hearty pep talk later, he headed out. 

The bar was only a few blocks from the tower, confirming his suspicion of Tony’s involvement. The interior though, was surprisingly cosy, with lush red sofas and an actual fireplace. It looked somewhat like Peter imagined the Gryffindor common room looking. 

He spun around just in time to see Deadpool entering.

 

“Hey Petey, guess we’re finally Gryffindors, huh?”

 

Sometimes he was sure that Wade Wilson had been lying to all of them and could actually read minds. Peter’s mind specifically.

 

He turned properly to greet him and blinked in surprise, Deadpool was wearing his usual suit, with what appeared to be a puffy blue dress. When Deadpool noticed Peter’s staring he twirled on the spot, right before Peter’s disbelieving eyes.

 

Peter was tempted to revisit his earlier nightmare theory. Not that Deadpool in a dress was a nightmare. It wasn’t really a dream either, but it certainly didn’t seem like something that could actually happen. 

A traitorous part of himself whispered ‘fantasy’ but he ignored it and continued blinking at Deadpool. He waited for words, but none seemed to come to him.

 

“I just thought the place looked liked the Gryffindor common room. In Harry Potter? Petey? Are you okay?”

 

“Huh,” Peter answered intelligently.

 

“I’m thinking that Cap had a hand in this. And Tony… Possibly both? This reeks of misguided good intentions mixed with Tony’s particular brand of uh, less-good intentions. You have any ideas, Petey?”

 

“You’re wearing a dress?” Peter was having trouble keeping up. 

He’d never seen Deadpool in anything but his suit, although he  _ had _ once worn it with a fedora. Something about redeeming unfairly persecuted clothing items, but that was it. Red suit and the fedora.

 

“Yes, Petey, keep up. You know what, on second thought, let’s get a table, you look a little shaken. Really, baby boy, if I’d known you found me this sexy in a dress I’d have worn one  _ ages _ ago. Every day, in fact.”

 

He shrugged, “I just figured the Avengers had sort of an unwritten dress code, you know? They’ve never said anything, but it feels implied that dresses are sort of out.”

 

“Besides,” he snorts, “Do you know how difficult it is to wash blood from chiffon?”

 

Peter hummed in response, distracted. He blamed his lack of witty retorts on his lack of suit. He’s always a bit sharper under his mask. It was just an unfair disadvantage in this conversation, honestly.

 

While he’d been babbling, Deadpool had led them to a table near the back.

 

“So, I’m thinking we hide back here, make fun of Cap and Bucky. Sing some Shakira later, show the team just how honest these hips are.” He emphasized his words by hip-bumping Peter.

 

This called Peter back to reality.

 

“No. No singing.” He cleared his throat.

 

“Son, that is the wrong thing to say at a karaoke bar,” came a deep voice from behind him.

 

Peter cursed his luck, and Deadpool’s luck, because this was at least partly his fault, turning to face Steve. That meant that Bucky had to be close by, and sure enough, Peter spotted him rearranging several smaller tables to make one presumably Avenger-sized table right in front of the stage.

 

Steve cleared his throat, “Wade, Peter, we’re sitting over there,” pointing unnecessarily to the growing table.

 

It wasn’t really the type of invitation one refused, so he wordlessly followed Wade to the seats right at the centre of the table. Apparently it was all or nothing tonight. Knowing that resistance would be futile, he sat down and wondered why Steve hadn’t been the least bit surprised at Deadpool’s attire.

 

A few moments later Steve and Bucky returned with a round of shots for the table, as the others slowly started joining them. Tony was the last to arrive, and instead of joining them at their table he headed straight for the stage.

 

He adjusted the microphone, somehow managing to create absolutely no static. Peter briefly wondered why all technology just magically behaved around Tony.

 

“Right. Welcome everybody,” Tony started, and the conversations around them slowly died down.

 

Peter glanced around to see what the rest of the bar thought of their impromptu host, but a quick scan told him that apart from a surly looking barman, they were the only clients.

 

“We’ve rented the venue for tonight,” Tony confirmed, “and every subsequent Friday night for the next two months. Now some might call this a misuse of funds, Cap and I call it ‘essential team building.’”

 

Beside him Deadpool leaned over and whispered, “Told you. Cap and Tony.”

 

Peter couldn’t help laughing softly. 

 

On stage Tony continued, oblivious to any interruptions, “Let’s get this show on the road. Now since Cap and I were nice enough to arrange all this, we’ll let someone else go first.”

 

‘Not me. Not me,’ Peter whispered under his breath.

 

“Let’s see. Natasha will be impossible to follow, Rhodey’s going to be late, Bucky is obviously singing with Steve, God only knows what Deadpool will sing, Falcon, Wanda, Pietro and Vision are currently on assignment and Hawkeye might take some convincing to remove from the ceiling, which leaves-“

 

Peter closed his eyes, hoping that Thor had joined them in the meantime.

 

“Peter!”

 

Peter wanted to refuse, but one look at Tony told him that this really was compulsory. He swallowed and made his way to the stage, blushing furiously when someone (his money was on Deadpool) catcalled him.

‘Right. So. Just get it over with. Sing something easy and just. Get. It over. With.’

 

It wasn’t that Peter had a terrible singing voice, it was just a combination of stage fright and social anxiety. Before he was ready, he was standing on the small wooden platform that functioned as a stage. He glanced down at the available artists, taking the mic from Tony.

 

_ Abba _ ‘NO.’

_ Atomic kitten _ . ‘Uh, if he didn’t know them, no.’

 

His eyes landed on a familiar name.  _ Britney Spears _ . Peter would never publicly admit to the Circus album in his collection, but at least he’d know the lyrics. He selected her name.

 

_ If U Seek Amy _ .

 

Alright. He knew that one. It was innocent, easy and would be over quickly. He selected the song, and the first few familiar bars calmed him enough to look up. He fixed his gaze on Deadpool. The sight of the built mercenary in the puffy dress brought a smile to his face. He took a deep breath, carefully not looking at anyone else, fearing that he would lose his nerve without Deadpool’s hilarious getup to make him feel less like he was making a fool of himself.

 

_ ‘Oh baby, baby, have you seen Amy tonight? _

_ Is she in the bathroom, is she smokin' up outside?  _

_ Oh baby, baby, does she take a piece of lime _

_ For the drink that I'mma buy her, do you know just what she likes?’ _

 

Peter started to enjoy the song. He actually started to smile a bit brighter.

 

_ Oh _

_ Tell me have you seen her, cause I'm so _

_ I can't get her off of my brain _

_ I just wanna go, to the party she gon' go _

_ Can't somebody take me home? _

_ Haha, hehe, haha, ho _

 

He started to tap his foot. Started to move his shoulders.

 

_ Love me, hate me _

_ Say what you want about me _

_ But all of the boys and all of the girls _

_ Are begging to if you seek Amy _

 

Deadpool was clearly grinning under his mask. It gave him a bit of confidence to start playing with his voice. It might’ve been the adrenaline, but he felt like he actually sounded good. He raised an eyebrow at Deadpool, receiving a very enthusiastic nod. 

Startled by the obviously positive reaction, he winked in reply. He thought he heard Tony gasp, but he shook it off and carried on. His confidence rose steadily until he was actually dancing around the mic, he finished the song a little breathlessly,

 

_ ‘All of the boys and all of the girls _

_ Are begging to if you seek Amy’ _

 

The Avengers burst into raucous applause, Deadpool actually stood up to clap and wolf whistle. The adrenaline was fading and he blushed, suddenly feeling shy again. He left the stage a little sheepishly, returning to his seat next to Deadpool. Deadpool, who was suddenly regarding him with a strange amount of attention.

 

Tony got up, presumably to lure the next person to the stage. “Well, Peter, that was quite something. Now, if he has enough blood flow left to stand and think, I think we should hear from Deadpool. Get up here, Wade.”

 

After a lingering glance that Peter found rather strange, Deadpool headed to the stage. “Since Britney hasn’t let us down tonight…” Deadpool said as familiar violins started to play.

 

Peter couldn’t help grinning. He secretly loved this song.

 

_ Baby, can't you see _

_ I'm calling _

_ A guy like you should wear a warning _

_ It's dangerous _

_ I'm falling _

 

Deadpool seemed to be employing the same coping mechanism, keeping his eyes on Peter, even as swung his hips outrageously.

 

_ There's no escape _

_ I can't wait _

_ I need a hit _

_ Baby, give me it _

_ You're dangerous _

_ I'm loving it _

 

Deadpool’s dress was strangely enchanting as he danced. Peter bit his lip, staring up at Wade.

 

_ Too high _

_ Can't come down _

_ Losin' my head _

_ Spinnin' 'round and 'round _

_ Do you feel me now? _

 

He sounded amazing. His voice was gravelly, but he hit every high note. Peter couldn’t look away. He didn’t give it too much thought, he didn’t think anyone could really look at anything else when a tall, muscled mercenary in a red suit and blue party dress was singing Britney Spears. Beside him Bucky was staring at Steve. 

 

Deadpool walked forward, jumping of the stage with surprising grace. He hopped onto the table swinging his legs over so that he was sitting right in front of Peter, one leg on either side of his body, before singing the final verse.

 

_ Intoxicate me now _

_ With your lovin' now _

_ I think I'm ready now _

 

Peter blamed his fluttering heartbeat on the surprise. Wade slipped back into his own seat, handing Tony the mic.

 

After Tony introduced Steve and Bucky, who sang a love song from the 60’s that Peter didn’t know, and Black Widow, (who somehow made Rihanna’s  _ Diamonds  _ sound threatening) they took a break to order food.

 

Wade insisted on paying for Peter, and Peter accepted, if only because arguing with Wade was like trying to staple water to a tree.

 

Deadpool spent the entire meal staring at Peter like he’d grown a second head.

 

“Alright what is it, Wade, do I have something on my face?”

 

“Not unless you count sexy.”

 

Peter groaned.

 

“I liked your song,” Wade said, he seemed amused.

 

“Thank you?” Peter replied carefully.

 

He was about to try and question Wade further when Tony interrupted. “Girls and boys, may I present, Bruce Banner!” Tony had an excellent announcer voice, “Singing a duet with the one and only Tony Stark!”

 

What followed was the best parody of Anaconda Peter had ever heard. He cried with laughter as Tony and Bruce sang what they had introduced as the ‘educational version’, which turned out to be facts about anacondas set to the beat of the original song. 

 

Hawkeye chose an indie-type song called  _ Falling _ , signing along to the lyrics.

 

Finally, Rhodey sang the last song of the evening, showing a previously hidden sense of humor with “Love is a Battlefield.”

 

All in all, Peter ended up having a good time. And he found himself looking forward to next Friday.

 

As he was about to leave, Deadpool met him at the door. “Hey Petey, I think I’d better walk you home. The author might just decide to give you a good villain, for once.”

 

Peter ignored the last part and frowned. “Deadpool, I’m Spiderman. I think I’ll be okay.”

 

Behind him Natasha seemed to be having some kind of coughing fit.

 

“I don’t mean for your protection, Spidey, I mean for mine. The streets of New York can be dangerous at this time of night. I’ll feel so much better if you were there to protect me with your Spidey sense.”

 

Peter honestly didn’t think he was drunk enough to be imagining an entire conversation. “Wade. You can’t die. I’ve seen you grow back limbs.”

 

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, Petey.”

 

That was a low blow, Peter couldn’t refuse him now. This conversation was going nowhere fast, in any case. “Fine, walk me home. Whatever floats your boat.”

 

The walk went well, they joked and talked easily, and Peter felt more relaxed than he had in months. He realized that he’d never hung out with Deadpool in circumstances that didn’t involve either fighting or long meetings. He thought that he should get to know him better, even if he did talk to himself sometimes, and flirted a bit too much for comfort.

 

When they reached Peter’s flat, he almost invited Deadpool in for coffee, but in the nick of time he realized that that might be misconstrued as a come on. So he bid him goodnight with a friendly pat on the shoulder. Wade seemed oddly disappointed as he headed into the night.


	2. Voulez-vous coucher- French is hard

Deadpool had every intention of spending the following week flirting with Peter Parker. He hadn’t even considered that the bambi-eyed boy hero that had him doodling hearts around the phrase ‘Wade Parker’ in most avengers meetings could possibly return his affections. 

 

He had tried to keep his distance, nothing like the thought of seeing the aforementioned bambi eyes filled with disgust to encourage him in that particular endeavor. 

Until he’d seen Peter sing, there’d been some argument amongst the boxes, but there was nothing that could convince him that singing ‘If U Seek Amy’ while winking at him wasn’t considered making a move.

 

He had spent an evening thinking of plans that ranged from simply asking him out for coffee to having three dozen red roses delivered at his apartment. Unfortunately all plans had to be cut short when he received possibly the most poorly timed job of his entire career.

It was nothing serious, since he had to sign what he called a ‘ _ no killing, no fun _ ’ contract when he joined the Avengers, but SHIELD had made it clear that the job absolutely couldn’t wait.

 

As luck would have it,  _ or because the author needed a convenient excuse to have him disappear until the next karaoke night _ , Deadpool thought with a twinge of bitterness, his flirting had to be put on hold until he returned, exactly ( _ conveniently _ ) one week later.

 

***

Peter was disappointed when he didn’t see Deadpool at the tower during the following week. He didn’t care to think too deeply about why that was, he just knew that the week was considerably more dull without Deadpool making faces at meetings and making jokes when they happened to meet each other on patrol.

 

He’d never been this aware of Deadpool’s lack of presence before. Wade often went missing for weeks when he took special jobs for SHIELD, but this week he just seemed  _ more _ absent than usual, somehow. 

 

By the time Thursday rolled around Peter was honestly considering calling Wade. He still couldn’t pin down the reason for this desire. His week was dull, nothing seemed fun. There was a lack of action in the city and without opportunities to take pictures of himself in the midst of the fight, he didn’t even have the Bugle to keep him busy.  Nothing seemed to hold any interest for him. 

 

He tried to fill his evenings with movies, but he lost the plot halfway through. He knew that he could go out, try to meet someone, but he never really got that far. He’d made it halfway through Moulin Rouge when he remembered about karaoke night the following evening. Wade would definitely be there for karaoke night. 

He even decided to see if they had Lady Marmalade to sing at the bar. He didn’t know what the French parts meant, but it had a nice beat, and repetitive lyrics that he could learn quickly. He didn’t want to as unprepared as last time.

He was heading out to buy himself some coffee on Friday morning (more to pass the time than an actual need for coffee) when he saw it. A feather boa in the window of a costume shop. He spent an entire hour drinking his coffee trying to convince himself that he couldn’t buy a feather boa. Especially not a pink feather boa. 

 

On his way back he thought about how Wade would laugh. And he thought about how he really couldn’t sing Lady Marmalade without some kind of accessory. And he thought about how it would give him something to do with his hands on stage instead of just clutching the mic stand. And he bought it, spending the entire time thinking about how he’d tell the clerk that I was for his little sister if he asked. He didn’t, but Peter almost told him anyway.

 

He spent the rest of the day halfheartedly paging through one of his textbooks. He didn’t really want to study during his break, but he honestly didn’t know what else to do. Eventually he changed into his spider suit and spent the rest of the day on patrol. 

 

He wondered if all the criminals were at some kind of convention for the week, as it was eerily quiet. He supposed it was a good thing that innocent people weren’t being attacked, but he needed something to occupy his thoughts. Nothing came. He helped an old lady carry her groceries and headed home to change. He stuffed the pink boa into a messenger bag and checked his hair one last time.

 

Much to his chagrin he was about an hour early at the bar. There were still a few other patrons hanging around, and he decided to order himself a drink.

 

“A strawberry daiquiri please?” he asked, trying to see if anybody else was early. 

 

“I hadn’t figured you for the pink drink type, baby boy.” The voice sent shivers down his spine. 

 

_ Where did Wade even come from? Did he just materialise?  _ Nevertheless, he smiled. It felt like time had suddenly sped up, lost the sluggish quality it had all week.

 

“I’ll have you know that the tastiness of alcohol is directly related to the pinkness of it,” Peter replied.

 

“Is that what they teach you at science school?”

 

Peter finally turned to look at Wade. He almost gasped, but caught himself just in time. Wade wasn’t wearing his suit. He was wearing a Deadpool hoodie over a baseball cap. He hid his surprise behind a cough. He didn’t want to make Wade uncomfortable, he’d heard some rumours about his insecurity.

 

“They call it college. Generally. Not science-school,” Peter said, and he was proud of himself, because it was so much better than  _ ‘I could get lost in your eyes, _ ’ which had been his first thought.

 

Wade took his drink and looped his arm through Peter’s, leading him to the table at the centre of the room that was already expanded in anticipation of their arrival. The barman was ushering the last few customers out of the door, after which he headed into the kitchen, leaving Peter alone with Wade.

 

Peter blushed when he realized that Wade still hadn’t let go of his arm- even as they sat. He carefully extracted it, under the guise of wanting to hold his drink.

 

“You’re early,” was all that Peter could think to say.

 

Wade still didn’t look up, but from his tone of voice, he could hear a raised eyebrow, “Pot, Kettle, Black.”

 

Peter had made peace with the fact that he would be spending most of tonight blushing. “I didn’t have much to do today. Boredom won out over my desire to be fashionably late.”

 

“You are adorable.” Peter choked on his drink. The words were completely sincere and completely out of the blue. He wanted to think of a reply but his brain was telling his body that almost hacking up a lung in an attempt to breathe was more prudent at the moment.

 

Wade helped by hitting him on his back. 

“There you go, baby boy, better not die. I don’t think you’d come back. No, white, we’re not testing it. Not even for science. Since when do you even like science?” 

 

Peter heard some of what Wade was saying as his breathing returned to normal and started to answer that he’d always like science. Vaguely he recognised someone else entering his line of sight.

 

“Wade. Peter. I don’t care what kinky shit you’re into, but please keep it behind closed doors,” Tony’s voice was dry.

 

Peter had finally stopped coughing entirely.

 

“Please,” Wade scoffed, “You and Pepper could use the tips. Or was it Bruce. I lose track.”

 

Tony sighed and turned away.

 

Peter took a shaky breath. He tried to thank Wade for helping him, and defending his honour against Tony, but he felt strangely tongue-tied. He did manage a smile, which Wade returned, leaving Peter to question the strength of the drinks here. He was feeling decidedly lightheaded. He turned his attention to the stage, where Tony was starting to speak. Peter noticed that the entire team had arrived.

 

“Since the order worked so well last time, I thought we’d just do that again tonight. Peter.” Tony stepped down and handed him the mic. 

 

Peter took another deep breath, scraping together all his courage as he headed for the stage. The way Wade squeezed his shoulder before he got up, was the sole reason he was brave enough to actually choose  _ Lady Marmalade _ when he saw it on the screen. He looked at Wade, the lights blinded him a bit, but he thought he was able to see a pair of brown eyes. If Wade could go out without his mask, he could take a boa out of a bag.

The song started, and with confidence that he didn’t really feel, he popped his hip and wrapped the boa around his neck. There was an audible gasp from the group but he just looked at Wade.

 

_ ‘Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister _

_ Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister _

_ Where's all mah soul sistas _

_ Lemme hear ya'll flow sistas’ _

_ Hey sista, go sista, soul sista, flow sista _

_ Hey sista, go sista, soul sista, go sista’ _

 

He spun around, extending his arms with the boa.

 

_ ‘Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya dada _

_ Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya here _

_ Mocha Chocalata ya ya _

_ Creole lady Marmalade’ _

 

He smiled at Wade winking as he started the French verse, mainly because he was proud of having memorized the words, and he was sure Wade spoke some French. Maybe he’d ask him what the lyrics meant a bit later.

 

_ ‘Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir? _

_ Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?’ _

 

The rest of the song pretty much exhausted him of the boa related dance moves, and he was relieved when he saw the final verse role on. 

 

He decided to go for a grand finale, and in one fluid motion he hopped from the stage onto the back of chair, balancing perfectly. Until he wasn’t, because apparently some chairs weren’t built to be leapt on. There were a few giggles from the audience as the chair wobbled and collapsed into a pile of sticks. His spidey sense had apparently taken a break for comic effect and he ended up sticking to the closest thing. Which just happened to be Wade. In a moment of spontaneity he wrapped the boa around Wade’s neck.

_ “Creole Lady Marmalade _

_ Yes-ah” _

 

He finished breathlessly. 

 

He saw Natasha look at Tony, but he didn’t pay them any mind, because Wade was looking up at him. He was looking at Wade’s face. The first thing he saw was the scars, covering his entire face, some of them red and clearly festering, others more healed and only silver bumps. It took him exactly a second to process those and move on, his eyes meeting Wade’s. Wade’s eyes were the deepest brown Peter had ever seen. He had to catch himself as he started leaning forward. 

He didn’t know why he was leaning forward, he just knew that he wanted to be closer. He wanted to gently touch those scars, asking Wade if they still hurt, if there was anything he could do. He wanted to tell Wade that he should show his face more, that the scars didn’t made him ugly, they made him a survivor.

 

As his brain slowly caught up to the situation, he saw that Wade’s smile was partly hopeful and partly terrified. Peter smiled back, trying to convey as much acceptance as he could, taking Wade’s hand in his own. Wade was wearing gloves, but Peter found himself wishing he wasn’t.

 

Tony coughed loudly from the stage, breaking the atmosphere.

 

“I said, Wade, it’s your turn to sing.”

 

Peter frowned, had Tony called Wade before? He was sure he’d have heard that.  He tried to see if Wade had heard anything. He saw a faint blush peaking from beneath his scars, and was glad that he wasn’t the only one that zoned out. Peter gingerly disengaged himself from Wade, leaning against the wall, in lieu of a chair. 

 

Wade kept his head down as he walked to the stage and picked a song. Wade didn’t lift his head as he started to sing the unfamiliar song.

_ I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind _

_ I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time… _

 

Wade met Peter’s eyes for a brief second. Peter could feel his face heat up.

 

_...After all I knew it had to be something to do with you _

_ I really don't mind what happens now and then _

_ As long as you'll be my friend at the end _

_ if I go crazy then will you still call me Superman? _

_ If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand? _

_ I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might _

_ Kryptonite _

_ You call me strong, you call me weak _

_ But still your secrets I will keep _

_ You took for granted all the times _

_ I never let you down _

_ You stumbled in and bumped your head _

_ If not for me then you'd be dead… _

 

Peter listened to every single word, his mind flashing back to all the bullets Wade had taken for him on missions. He was starting to realise how deep his feelings ran. 

 

_...I picked you up and put you back on solid ground _

_ If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman? _

_ If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand? _

_ I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might _

_ Kryptonite _

 

The final bars played and Wade quickly glanced at Peter again. Peter didn’t know what he was feeling but he was sure it was trouble. He couldn’t ignore the escalating fluttering sensation. He couldn’t ignore it. But he could definitely avoid it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, this fic was a lot of fun to write. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://wading-into-spidey.tumblr.com) and please comment!


	3. Pick a temperature Spidey

Peter spent the rest of the night carefully looking everywhere but Wade. This proved difficult when Steve and Bucky unironically sang Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up.’

 

“Hey Petey, do you think no one told them about rickrolling? Because we’re up for meme-ducating them. Do you see what we did there? We took memes and education and combined them. Like Spideypool?”

Peter was going to ignore Wade. Maybe pretend that he didn’t hear him, but the last part gave him pause, “Like what now?”

 

“Spideypool, it’s our ship name,” Wade was grinning, on the verge of laughing.

 

“Ship name? What does this have to do with boats?”

 

“ _ No _ Petey, it’s like Brangelina. Except for us. It’s a pretty good one too. They couldn’t really have made it ‘Deadspider.”

 

There was a pause while Peter found himself at a loss for words. Brangelina? Was Deadpool making a name for them as a couple? As people who dated? Each other? Peter didn’t know what to think, instead listening to Deadpool as he finished a monologue and addressed Peter again. 

 

“White’s informed me that it would actually be Deadman, since it’s the first part of your name and the last part of mine, or vice versa y’know. So Spideypool or Deadman, the choice is pretty easy,” Deadpool finished, laughing.

 

Peter hesitated, “So it’s pretty funny, huh? People thinking that we should date?” He tried to keep his voice lighthearted. He didn’t exactly know what his end-game was, but he knew he wanted to talk more about them being together. 

 

Deadpool didn’t say anything for a few minutes, until he answered, softly, “Yeah Baby Boy, hilarious.” He chuckled. But it seemed off, somehow.

 

“Yeah.” Peter turned away, putting a physical barrier between the disappointment he knew would be evident on his face and Wade. Wade found the idea of them dating laughable. Peter wasn’t blind, he knew Deadpool flirted with him. But Deadpool flirted with everyone, and he was hardly the type to be tied down, emotionally. Physically he’d probably be down for that. Peter blushed trying to get his thoughts back on track. Wade wouldn’t want a relationship, and Peter didn’t want a fling. Hell, Deadpool probably didn’t even want a fling with him. In fact, Deadpool might even be straight, he might just be joking around. Either way, Peter was sure it wasn’t worth risking a broken heart and a lost friendship. 

 

He didn’t want his inappropriate feelings to influence their friendship. He didn’t want to annoy Wade with his childish crush. He didn’t want to be feeling this. Except he did, because underneath it all the way he felt about Wade, he began to realise, hurt in the best possible way. 

***

 

What ensued was the most hellish week of Peter’s life, because suddenly Wade was everywhere. After a weekend spent staring gloomily at his bio book and blaming oxytocin for the mess he was in, he was forced to go to tower for a debriefing on Monday. 

 

He tried to walk quickly. Silently wishing that his spider sense would upgrade from personal physical danger to personal emotional danger, he stretched his hearing to the absolute limit. There were the usual Stark-tower related noises -until, a heartbeat, footsteps heading his way and, singing?

  
  


_ “A few times I've been around that track _

_ So it's not just gonna happen like that _

_ 'Cause I ain't no hollaback girl _

_ I ain't no hollaback girl” _

Peter had just enough time to recognize the song and the voice before jumping to the ceiling. He looked around, knowing that Wade would probably still notice him. He thanked his luck when he spotted a vent cover, quietly pushed it up and crawled in, wincing at the noise it made when he slid it back into place.

Sitting back against the wall, of the vent he looked around. Grey. More grey. Darker grey. Somewhere in the back of his mind a Fifty Shades joke was lurking but he pushed it away, deciding that he could probably make it from here to to the boardroom without too much trouble. 

 

Ten minutes later he was cursing himself, he’d been on enough missions to know that vent travel was the worst kind of travel. Vents were nearly always dusty, and invariably just narrow enough to ensure continual discomfort, no matter how flexible you were. Peter was in the process of trying to see if crawling upside down would help when he heard someone clearing their throat. 

“Any reason you decided on this alternate travel route today?”

 

“Hawkeye. Hey. Um. Scenic route?” Peter asked, smiling at Clint.

 

“Right, the debriefing is this way. And it’s much better if you hold your legs closer to your shoulders.”

 

“That’s what he said,” Peter mumbled while he pulled his legs up. It did end up helping, and he followed a silent Clint to the boardroom. Where Deadpool made himself at home beside Peter and promptly swung his legs onto the table. Peter sighed, this was going to be a long debriefing. 

 

Peter wondered how long he would have to spend meetings looking at tables to avoid laughing at 

Deadpool’s jokes. He didn’t see Deadpool losing his sense of humour, so he’d just have to wait for this stupid crush to fade and he’d be able to look at Wade without blushing and everything would be okay again. He chanced a few glances out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t read anything behind the white eyes of the mask.

He didn’t even know what he was hoping to see. Wade looking at him lovingly? Please. 

 

After the meeting Peter made up an excuse about being late for class and ran out. He heard Wade calling his name, but he just kept walking. 

 

So of course Deadpool showed up to his apartment two days later. Peter was sitting on the floor, watching Pretty Woman and wondering if he could pull off Julia Roberts in the fantasy of him and Wade he was inevitably concocting in his head, when he heard the knock on his door. He assumed it was the pizza he ordered. And there he was. Deadpool standing in front of him. With a pizza. Peter stood still for exactly two seconds before he decided that he should stick to his classic excuse. 

 

“Wade. Hi I’d love to stay. But I have class. Right now.”

 

“At nine. In the evening?” Wade, to his credit, sounded like he wasn’t buying even a bit of what Peter was selling.

 

“Night class.” Peter could hear his own voice getting higher.

 

“Right right. So why did you order pizza? I paid the delivery guy for you, bee-tee-dubs.” Why did Peter know that Wade had a raised eyebrow underneath the mask?

 

“Uh I prefer my pizza cold. Yeah, bought it to eat after. So yeah I gotta, y’know…” Peter pointed towards the stairs and in one motion scooped the pizza up, tossed it onto his kitchen table and ran.

 

“Wait Petey-”

 

Peter didn’t wait.

 

Deadpool stood staring at the closed door and the rapidly retreating figure of Peter Parker.    
  


“You’re not wearing shoes.” Deadpool finished his sentence, speaking to the empty hallway.

Peter would really like to inform absolutely everyone that New York sidewalks and white socks didn’t mix. But he didn’t want to turn back, he couldn’t stop running away from this. This was too big. There was too much potential to be hurt again. 

***

Deadpool didn’t know what to think. Friday night Peter was all hot and heavy until he sang Kryptonite. He cycled through a few theories, from Peter hating Superman (After man of steel, he honestly wouldn’t blame him), to Peter just being busy, to a more morbid, maybe he came to his senses and realised that he deserved so much better than a reformed mercenary with bad skin.

***

 

By Friday night Peter’s frustration had built to such a climax that he was pretty much exclusively listening to Taylor Swift and eating ice cream. Not wanting to run into Wade, Peter was the last to arrive. He’d considered calling in sick, but the chance to get out, wash the ice cream out of his hair and work through some emotions by passive aggressively singing at Wade was too good to pass up.  At least he knew exactly what he wanted to sing. He didn’t even listen to Tony’s introduction. Just walked to the stage with steely, perhaps foolhardy, determination. 

 

Wade wouldn’t realise this was about him. So it hardly mattered what Peter sang. Wade would just joke away as normal, completely unaware of Peter’s emotional trauma. Peter looked down as the music started, feeling more than a little dramatic.

_ Once upon time _

_ A few mistakes ago _

_ I was in your sights _

_ You got me alone _

_ You found me… _

 

Peter was still looking down, but he rolled his shoulders. 

 

_ And when I fell hard _

_ You took a step back _

_ Without me, without me, without me _

_ And he's long gone _

_ When he's next to me _

_ And I realize the blame is on me _

_ 'Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in _

Peter was feeling this song. He tapped his foot. Looked up, his gaze above everyone's heads. 

 

_ So shame on me now _

_ Flew me to places I'd never been _

_ So you put me down oh _

_ I knew you were trouble when you walked in _

_ So shame on me now _

_ Flew me to places I'd never been _

_ Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground _

_ Oh, oh, trouble, trouble, trouble _

_ Oh, oh, trouble, trouble, trouble _

 

Peter put all the frustration he was feeling into the ridiculous high notes. 

 

_ No apologies _

_ He'll never see you cry _

_ Pretend he doesn't know _

_ That he's the reason why _

_ You're drowning, you're drowning, you're drowning _

_ And I heard you moved on _

_ From whispers on the street _

_ A new notch in your belt _

_ Is all I'll ever be _

_ And now I see, now I see, now I see _

_ He was long gone _

_ When he met me _

 

Peter almost looked at Wade, but he quickly moved his eyes to the back wall again. 

 

_ Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground _

_ Oh, oh, trouble, trouble, trouble _

_ Oh, oh, trouble, trouble, trouble _

_ I knew you were trouble when you walked in _

_ Trouble, trouble, trouble _

_ I knew you were trouble when you walked in _

_ Trouble, trouble, trouble _

 

Peter couldn’t help glancing at Wade this time, but Wade was wearing his regular suit and all he could see was slightly narrowed eyes. Peter went back to his seat, trying not to look at Wade. He was starting to think that maybe he hadn’t been quite as subtle as he hoped.

 

He hoped that Wade just ignored it though. Peter was so lost in thought he completely missed Wade getting up and selecting a song. He recognized it immediately. At least Wade still felt like being ridiculous, even if Peter felt like crawling into his bed and crying. Some part of him wanted to blame Wade. Wade was always flirting and looking ridiculously ripped and making jokes about how much he liked Peter. But Peter knew that it wasn’t Wade’s fault that he’d gotten the lines between comedy and reality twisted.

Peter sighed and listened to Wade absolutely smashing a Katy Perry song.

 

_ You change your mind _

_ Like a girl changes clothes _

 

Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that Wade was looking at him. 

 

_ And you over think _

_ Always speak _

_ Cryptically _

 

Peter tried to look away, but the moment his eyes hit the stage, he saw that Wade had taken off his mask. Wade’s eyes trapped him.

 

_ I should know _

_ That you're no good for me _

_ 'Cause you're hot then you're cold _

_ You're yes then you're no _

_ You're in then you're out _

_ You're up then you're down _

_ You're wrong when it's right _

_ It's black and it's white _

 

Peter didn’t think he’d ever had such intense eye contact with anyone. 

 

_ You don't really want to stay, no _

_ But you don't really want to go-o _

_ You're hot then you're cold _

_ You're yes then you're no _

_ You're in then you're out _

_ You're up then you're down _

 

Was Wade singing to him? It certainly seemed like it. But Peter was the one with the crush. Was Wade trying to tell him to back off? If the aggression (as much as one could make bubblegum pop aggressive) in the words were anything to go by, Wade definitely was. Peter felt like such a idiot. Wade was obviously annoyed by him.

 

_ We used to be _

_ Just like twins _

_ So in sync _

_ The same energy _

_ Now's a dead battery _

_ Used to laugh bout nothing _

_ Now you're plain boring _

 

Peter felt his face flush. Why did have to ruin a perfectly good friendship? He’d enjoyed

Wade company but clearly Wade had picked up on Peter’s crush before he’d picked up on it himself.

 

_ I should know that _

_ You're not gonna change- _

 

Peter didn’t want to sit here and listen to this. He stood up, shoved his chair back. He vaguely registered it toppling over. He was going to owe this place an entire set of chairs soon. He was out of the bar before Wade even had time to put the mic down. 

 

Wade didn’t even bother finishing the song. He just walked off, tossing the mic to Tony with a little more force than necessary.

 

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose, realising that once again, she was going to have to clear this misunderstanding away. She wished people in this group could communicate with more than lovelorn looks and karaoke. This was worse than Steve and Bucky. She leaned over to Clint.

 

“You see what’s happening here, right?” She asked. 

 

“Peter is oblivious and dangerously out of the loop on song based communication? It’s Steve and Bucky 2.0,” Clint answered, amusement clear in his voice. 

“And Wade is being self deprecating.” Natasha continued for him.

 

“Exactly.” Clint confirmed.

 

“You take Wade, I’ll take Peter.”

 

“Meet back here next Friday?” 

 

Natasha nodded grimly. She would rather take another alien invasion, but some things just had to be done, and she wanted them done right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are much appreciated.


	4. Peter learns some vital things

Peter walked into Avengers tower the following morning, absentmindedly greeting Jarvis while trying to figure out why Black Widow of all people wanted a private meeting with him. 

 

“Jarvis, who’s in the tower today?” He asked, keeping his voice low, even though he was alone in the lift. With Parker-luck you really can’t be too careful. 

 

“It should please you to hear that Mr. Wilson is having lunch with Mr. Barton at the moment.” Peter sighed at the hint of amusement in Jarvis’ voice. He was glad that at least some things were finding joy in his emotional trauma. Really. Even if it meant that Tony’s AI apparently knew about his crush too.

 

Peter stood outside Natasha's apartment and debated on whether he should knock or just try coughing really loudly. Maybe he could knock something over. 

 

“I’ll alert Ms. Romanoff to your presence, Mr. Parker.”

 

Peter nodded “Yeah, thanks Jarvis.”

 

Natasha opened the door, wearing a satin bathrobe and- no that was it, just the bathrobe. Peter really hoped he wasn’t blushing.

 

“Peter.”

 

“Natasha,” he responded, hating the waver in his voice. He didn’t think he’d ever had a one on one conversation with Natasha, and now he was standing in her doorway, clearly having woken her up.

 

“Sorry, I’m early I didn’t know if I should wait or-“

 

“Relax, Spider. I just think we need to talk. Come in.”

_ Talk? About what?  _ Peter took a deep breath and followed. Ten minutes later Peter was sat on a surprisingly comfortable black leather couch, being slobbered on by a large dog and holding a cup of tea.

 

“So…” Peter tried to break the silence while Natasha fidgeted with the remote. “What did you want to talk about?” 

 

Natasha shook her head. “Ah ha. Just watch.”

 

Peter watched the muted youtube video that Natasha had started playing on the Stark-issue flatscreen. She pressed a few buttons and the sound started playing. Peter recognized the song immediately.

 

“This is  _ If U Seek Amy _ . I sang it that first karaoke night.” Peter stated, somewhat unnecessarily. 

 

“Yes you did. While staring at Wilson like he was the teleprompter.” There was a hint of accusation in her voice. 

 

“Natasha, what’s this about?”

 

“What do you think this song is about?” She continued, ignoring Peter’s question. 

 

Peter huffed. “I don’t know! A tribute to Amy Winehouse? Trying to find your friend at a party. I was on the spot and it was the first song I knew. Why does it matter?”

 

Peter was a bit frustrated. He still didn’t know what was going on, the dog was practically on top of him and the video was making him a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully Natasha paused the video. Turning the full force of her gaze onto him.  _ Great. _

 

“I want you to say this with me. Slowly.” Her tone was reminiscent of something you’d use on a particularly stubborn child.

 

Peter nodded. Resigned to his confusion.

 

“If. You. Seek. Amy.”

 

Peter went for it, hoping that Natasha had a point and that this wasn’t an elaborate prank. He had ice cream waiting for him at home. Probably. 

 

“If. U. C. K. Me-“ Oh.  _ Oh no. _

 

“No.” Peter’s eyes widened as he realized what he was saying, “Fuck me. The lyrics. And I winked at Wade. Do you think he..? Of course he does. I asked Wade to fuck me. With a Britney Spears song. In front of the everybody. And then he asked to walk me home. And I didn’t even invite him in. No. No, no no no.” Peter had his head in his hands.

 

Black Widow nodded. Seeming pleased. Peter peered at her through his fingers.

 

“Alright. Now. Part two.” She continued, as if Peter didn’t just realise that Wade Wilson wanted him, and he’d sent him away. 

 

“There’s more?”

 

Natasha switched the screen to a video of Lady Marmalade. With google translate open next to it.

 

“Do you speak any French?” She asked, and Peter wondered why he bothered asking things at all. 

 

Peter swallowed. He had no good feelings about where this was going. “No, I was going to ask Wade, I mean, I didn’t think it was that important.”

 

Natasha copied the French lyrics into the box. And pressed translate. It took Peter precisely three seconds before the colour started to drain from his face.

 

**_Detect language:_ ** _ Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir _

_ Voulez vous coucher avec moi _

 

**_English:_ ** _ Do you want to sleep with me tonight _ _   
_ _ Would you like to sleep with me _

 

“Oh.” Was all Peter could manage. 

 

“Yes. Oh.” Natasha smirked.

 

“And I did the thing with the boa and then he sang that song…” There was silence while Peter googled the lyrics to Superman. “ _ If I go crazy will you still call me Superman?”  _ he read. “And he was joking about us dating and I said that thing… Oh.” Suddenly everything looked completely different. “And that Katy Perry song. It wasn’t just a song. That was for me. Because I kept leading him on and ignoring him… But he wasn’t annoyed by my crush. Oh.” ‘Oh’ seemed to be the word of the day. 

 

“I have to find Wade. I have to apologise. He probably hates me. I didn’t. I don’t.” He didn’t want to finish sentences, he wanted to find Wade. Now. 

 

“Peter! Sit.”

 

Peter sat.

 

“Do you understand what you’ve been doing?”

 

Peter nodded.

 

“Do you want to date Wade?”

 

Peter didn’t hesitate. “Yes, of course and if I’m understanding this right, he likes me too? So why am I still sitting here?” 

 

“Alright, so what do you want to sing?” Natasha asked, as if it was the most rational thing in the world. 

 

Peter just blinked at her. 

 

“Peter, you started this with karaoke and you should finish this with karaoke.”

 

Peter didn’t know if the dog was cutting off his oxygen supply or if he’d watched too many romantic comedies, but that made an alarming amount of sense. Wade deserved romance, and he saw where Natasha was going. He had a song to choose. And it needed to be very obvious. 

  
  


Peter left three hours later with a plan. And if it failed, well. He could play it off as a joke. He mentally shook himself. Didn’t he used to be braver than this? He had needed someone to make him see sense, but he finally did. He liked Wade, and Wade really did deserve honesty. He was going all in. He needed to take this chance. Close his eyes and leap. But first he needed to lay some groundwork. He couldn’t just start singing a romantic song and hope Wade would catch the hint, that ship had well and truly sailed.


	5. Right where we are

**Monday**

 

Peter had it narrowed down to about three songs, when he decided to call it a night at three in the morning. His alarm woke him at eight and he nearly stayed in bed, but when he thought of what he wanted to do today, his stomach twisted into nervous swirls that pushed him into the shower. He tried to formulate what he was going to say as the hot water rolled onto his skin. He got as far as his first sentence when he realised that he couldn’t reliably predict Deadpool’s responses. 

 

Giving up, he dried off and looked at his planned outfit with grim satisfaction. He wore spandex on a daily basis, he could do this.

 

He grabbed a bottle of water and made his way to the Taco Bell near the tower. He hoped that Nat’s intel was good. Realising that he was doubting a world class spy to tell him where someone she’d been living in the same building as for the past year would be on a Monday morning, he chastised himself. 

 

He peered in through the window, satisfied when he saw a familiar red suit at a booth. Peter waited a few moments, leaning against a wall where he could see the entrance. Ten minutes later Peter saw Wade heading out and ran his finger through his hair before breaking into a jog. He quickened his pace until he was next to Wade. He cleared his throat, but Wade was intent on his conversation with the boxes, oblivious to Peter jogging beside him in hot pink yoga pants.  

 

“Wade?” Peter tried to get his attention without much success.

 

“Wade!” Peter stepped in front of him, jogging backwards. Wade finally looked up. 

 

And down. And up again. Following this blatant display with a wolf whistle. Peter blushed, matching his pants. 

 

“I was hoping to run into you.” Peter said, walking beside Deadpool again. 

 

“No. Yellow. Later. We can stab ourselves later. We’re in the middle of the street. I don’t think we’re hallucinating that part.”

 

Peter took a moment to make sense of Deadpool’s words before he realised that they weren’t directed at him. 

 

“Wade!”

 

Wade regarded him with a cocked head. 

 

“This isn’t a hallucination. In fact,” Peter continued, kind of glad that Deadpool was giving him the chance to finish saying what he’d rehearsed in his head, “I’d like to ask you something.”

 

“Whatever you say, baby boy, and go ahead, ask away. See, if he’d been a hallucination why’d he want to ask us a question?”

 

Peter smiled. At least Wade was on the non-hallucination side of the debate. He took a deep breath. “Would you like to come by for pizza? Maybe tomorrow night?” 

 

“Th-” was all Peter let Deadpool say before he decided that he needed to modify the offer. 

 

“Or Wednesday, or Thursday. Not Friday because that’s Karoake and you need to be there. You will be there right?”

 

Wade answered immediately, not letting Peter continue with oh-so-smooth rambling. “Tomorrow is good. Unless you are a hallucination. In which case Yellow says that you look real enough to stay.”

 

On a whim Peter grabbed Wade’s hand and squeezed, “This feels pretty real to me,” he said earnestly. 

 

“Baby boy, what are you doing? Because trust me, whatever you give, I’ll take, but I’d like to know what we’re,” he motioned between them, “doing. Just a little less ‘surprise motherfucker’ and a little more ‘Rue dies motherfucker.’ Basically? I want the spoilers Spidey. ‘Cause I can’t do this on and off thing any more,” Wade finished, and looked at Peter.

 

“Can you do me a favour, Wade?”

 

“Depends on what kind of favour, because last time someone asked me for a favour I ended up promising to buy kale. I didn’t even know what kale was, so I figured I’d try the hardware store since it was for Tony and I thought maybe he needed some things to fuck around with in his workshop, and I walked around for hours before I thought of googling it and by that time I banned from three hardware stores and…”

 

“Wade!” They walked almost three blocks and Peter actually did have classes to attend today, he needed to wrap this up. “I don’t need kale,” he said when Wade finally fell silent, “But I do need you to wait until Friday for, uh, spoilers…”

 

“Friday…I guess I can do that, River Song.” 

 

“You were the one who brought up spoilers in the first place,” Peter complained, but he was smiling.

 

“Well I gotta love me some Eleven. Although Ten had better hair I guess,” Wade carried on walking.

“I gotta head to class, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Peter interrupted, pointing vaguely in the direction of NYU.

 

“Tomorrow? What’s tomorrow? Well I mean I know the definition of the word ‘tomorrow’,” Wade said, air quoting ‘tomorrow’, “But what is happening tomorrow? Not in general. What is happening tomorrow involving the two of us?”

 

Peter checked his watch. He was going to have to go to class in hot pink yoga pants. 

 

“Pizza, remember.” he answered, figuring that if half the girls could then he could too. Maybe he could play it off as a political thing? Protesting the dress code?

 

“Oh yeah… We still thought you were a hallucination then… No, White, that’s next week. What do you mean it was next week last week. It’s this week. Fuck,” On the last word Wade violently stomped his foot, scaring a nearby flock of pigeons into flight. “Baby boy I gotta work this week, I have this thing for SHIELD and I have to go, I’d cancel but the drug cartel really only has this one meeting we know of, I know, it’s very inconvenient, we really hate this author.”

 

“So, no pizza?” Peter would swear for years afterward that he absolutely wasn’t pouting. 

 

“Yeah, sorry Petey, but I’ll be back for spoilers on Friday,” he glared at the sky for a second, mumbling something that Peter didn’t quite catch. 

 

Peter stared to walk away, turning around to add one last thing before he really had to sprint to class, “I’ll see you Friday. And Wade?” he waited to see if he was listening, “Spoiler alert, it’s more  _ ‘heart eyes, motherfucker.’ _ ”

 

Peter started jogging away, not waiting to see Deadpool’s reaction

 

*******

 

Peter spent the following day narrowing it down to two songs and successfully covered an entire page of his biology textbook in little hearts instead of paying attention. He was sure it’d all be resolved Friday, one way or the other. He thought again about what Wade had said, about taking anything he was willing to give. He frowned. He didn’t really want that, he wanted a mutual loving relationship. With dates and kissing and romance. Peter had no shame in admitting this. For all the time Deadpool spent thinking out loud, he sure didn’t give a lot a- Peter stopped his train of thoughts before he even finished thinking ‘away’ because suddenly he knew what song to sing. It was a shame to eliminate One Direction and Belinda Carlisle. But this was it. 

 

*******

 

On Wednesday Peter headed to the tower to try and strongarm a few Avengers into helping him rehearse. Turns out, every single member of the team, including Falcon and Wanda, who were finally back, wanted to help with an alarming amount of enthusiasm.  Everyone convened in one of the large lounges, and Tony even enlisted Steve to help him put one of the chairs in the middle of the lounge, facing the rest of the team.Peter let himself be ushered into it, not really minding, as long as they wanted to help.

 

“Alright son, Natasha informed us of your plans, and I’d like to commend you on your bravery.  Pursuits of the heart are always-”

 

“Steve, just let the boy sing,” Tony interrupted, “by the way, what were you planning to sing?” Tony turned, facing him now.  

 

***

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of criticism, comments, choreography and organization that made the Avengers look like the world’s most efficient stage crew. 

 

Peter only registered certain highlights in the blur of activity. 

 

“You really should pop your hip out more there,” Wanda mused, while Natasha and Tony argued over the colour of his blazer. They’d decided about half an hour ago that he should wear the black skinny jeans that Steve, of all people, said made his legs look good ‘in a modest sort of way’, compared to spandex at least. Tony had him try on three ‘different’ white t-shirts and Hawkey decided that the third one was better, although Peter suspected that it had mostly been to get them to stop discussing rolled sleeves versus a more clean-cut unrolled sleeve. Peter didn’t know why it mattered if he was going to be wearing a jacket, and he said as much. 

 

“It’s for when you take the jacket off,” Bucky supplied, trying to style Peter’s hair, while Wanda had him moving around to judge his singing posture. 

 

“Oh yeah, we still have to work on you taking the jacket off somewhere in the routine.” Wanda stepped back, to think this over, finally giving Bucky free reigns with his hair. Tony slipped a jacket on, and Nat nodded. Peter didn’t care if the jacket was made of lace and covered in zips, if Tony and Nat agreed he’d wear it.

About three hours later he left the tower, with a bag full of clothes, orders to get a good night’s sleep and the lasagna Bruce had been cooking while the chaotic  _ Project Runway, Avengers Special _ had been taking place. He wiped at his eye, he had tried to veto the eyeliner, but Bucky wanted to see what it would like like and Steve hadn’t been far behind. You can’t say no to Captain America. 

  
  
  
  


When Friday finally came Peter fell asleep at around one in the morning and woke up at around noon. The team had told him to be at the tower dressed, an hour before they had to leave. Which left him with an annoying 6 hours to kill. He watched the music video of the song he was planning to sing on repeat for an hour. He cleaned. Did a load of laundry. Organized his CDs alphabetically. Rewatched the video. Read a randomized wikipedia article on reindeer. Finally, at around five he decided to take a scenic route walking to the tower. 

 

He was going over the song lyrics in his head, unusually unaware of his surroundings. He was lost in his plans for the night, lost in thoughts of Wade, when he realised that his feet had carried him past a tiny park nestled in between a few tall buildings. He still had some time to kill and the roses in the park were beautiful. On a whim, he decided to pick some for Wade. 

 

The park appeared to be completely empty, and Peter walked to a promising looking bush, deciding that red would be best, if a little cliche. He bent over, his hand closing around a flower. His spidey sense tingled a moment before he felt a sharp prick in his finger. He tried to pull his hand back but he was caught in the thorn. Cursing, and hoping not to get blood on his white t-shirt he bent forward, to try and untangle himself. Just as he  felt another prick his spidey sense tingled again (seriously, what good is it if it’s going to be too late for him to do anything) and then, suddenly a sharp pain exploded through his head. The world faded out, Peter’s last thought, absurdly, was his white t-shirt being covered in blood. 

 

Peter slowly becomes aware of his surroundings again. For a minute he couldn’t catch his breath and nothing in his mind made sense. Then it all came flooding back.

 

And his first thought is, ‘shit.’ Because the one perfect chance he gets to impress Wade and his spidey senses are outsmarted by some thorns and a- Peter check his pockets and finds them empty- yeah, a completely ordinary mugger. Peter groans at the pain he feels when he touches the back of his head. He inspects the blood on his fingers, and his watch. Watch… His thoughts feel like they are taking three times the normal amount of time to process. Time! He checks the time, 7:30, he’d been out for nearly two hours, but he was still only half an hour late. 

 

With a burst of determination he stood up, taking stock of where he was. He recognised this alley, it couldn’t be though. Was the universe really that kind? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, silently praying that he was right as he walked to the dumpster. He fumbled around, searching the narrow gap between the wall and the dumpster. He smiled when his hand closed around a very familiar backpack. He’d hidden the spidey suit here months ago after a sudden and urgent call from the bugle interrupted his patrol, and in the ensuing chaos that was his life, he just didn’t have time to come back and get it. A fact he now very much appreciated. And if he was right. Yes. A pair of spare webshooters nestled in a pouch. Wasting no time he started a jog to gain momentum and aimed for the nearest building. His head throbbed and he moved with a little less grace than usual, but five exhausting minutes later he was stumbling through the now familiar doors of the karaoke club. Into chaos. It looked like the meeting room before the undertook a mission. Steve was talking to someone on the phone, Natasha and Hawkeye were scheming… something. And in the general buzz of activity Wade was glaringly absent. 

 

“Hey guys,” His voice was a little hoarse. 

 

“Peter, what happened?” Tony was the first to respond, “you were late, your phone number suddenly isn’t in service anymore? I was all for the ‘lost his nerve and ran theory’ myself, but these guys were kind of worried…” despite his words Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

 

It wasn’t a total overreaction, Peter thought, eyes still scanning for Wade, these nights were kind of like liaisons, and when a superhero, especially one on your team, is anything more than five minutes late for a scheduled meeting, panic is sort of the default. “Mugged, spider senses were busy focusing on the thorns from these,” Peter absently replied, holding up the battered roses that the thief had left behind. Peter had decided to keep them, because hey, it wasn’t every day you nearly died for flowers.  But as Peter looked around all thoughts of flowers faded away. Because one person was conspicuously absent.

 

In the space of a moment an entire scenario played itself out in Peter’s head, what if Wade had decided to run, what if he’d decided that Peter had ditched him, what if he went back to the mercenary business, or worse what if he came back and thought that Peter was lying about being mugged, what if Deadpool decided to ignore him, what if he’d ruined everything with-

 

“He’s on his way,” Natasha’s voice came from nearby. He turned his head to look at her. “Wade. When you didn't come, he was worried so he decided that randomly patrolling the streets looking for you was the best course of action.” The ‘and it saved him from dealing with the heartbreak of you not showing up and embarrassing him in front of his idols’  went unspoken. 

 

“I texted him, and he’s on his way.” Natasha repeated, evidently sensing Peter’s fears “Says that we’d better make sure that Peter’s okay.”

 

“Really, he said that? In those words,” Tony raised an eyebrow and Natasha replied by tossing him her phone.

 

“Give or take twenty heart and spider emojis and a few swear words.” Natasha didn’t actually roll her eyes, but Peter could tell that it was close. “Are you okay?” she added, sounding a bit more concerned than she was acting. 

 

Peter nodded, running his hands through his hair, “Yeah, not so sure about the look though. I don’t think 

Wade’s going to go for freshly attacked and blood splattered.” he sounded, and felt, dejected, tonight was supposed to be his chance. Their chance. 

 

Before Peter could even really process his disappointment, he was distracted by someone tugging at his shirt, and something wet on his nose. 

“Wanda? What?” she was standing very close scrubbing at his face with something. 

 

“For the record, I think Wade would adore you if you were wearing a burlap sack, but mud in your hair doesn't really scream ‘kiss me’”

 

A few minutes later Bucky was still trying to fix Peter’s hair, when the doors flew open with quite a bit of force, startling Peter and causing Bucky to pull on his hair. 

 

“Ouch!” Peter looked up, more relieved than he thought he’d be to see Wade, just Wade, in a hoodie and jeans with no mask, standing in the entrance. 

 

“I thought I told you to take care of Petey-pie, and you don’t like hair pulling, good to know, I should really write that down somewhere, you got a notepad, baby boy?”

 

Peter’s smile was ear-splitting, there was nothing stopping him now. No plans or unexpected missions or insecurities. This was it. “No, but I got you these,” Peter replied handing him the comically beat up flowers. “Sorry they’re a uh- but I did nearly die for them,” he joked, with a crooked grin.

 

“They’re perfect Petey, not perfect obviously, but it’s the thought really, unless-”

 

“Wade,” Peter interrupted, “shut up,” he said without venom, smiling. He took Wade’s hand and lead him to where all the other avengers were hurriedly taking seats, Steve at least having the decency to pretend that they weren’t eavesdropping. 

 

Peter continued leading Wade, positioning him on the stage, Wade for his part kept quiet, only once addressing a box. 

 

Peter turned and his eyes met Wade’s. 

 

“I know that I haven’t always been clear about what I feel in the past. But-”

 

“Oh that’s okay Petey, no need to let me down easy, i get it, I really do, look I mean, I can go get my mask and-”

 

“Me standing in front of all our friends as an audience is letting you down easy?” Peter frowned.

 

“Well I guess not but-”

 

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Tony had somehow acquired a spare karaoke mic. “Peter, stop. Deadpool just listen to the song.” Tony tapped the screen of his phone and familiar notes filled the air. 

 

Deadpool looked about ready to run away when Peter bent down, but he just picked up the mic and stood again, eyes never leaving Wade’s. He reached up, tentatively brushing his hand across Wade’s cheek, taking a small step back as he started to sing the first words, 

 

_ When your legs don't work like they used to before _

_ And I can't sweep you off of your feet _

 

Wade’s eyes widened and he looked like he wanted to say something, but Peter pressed on

 

_ Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love _

_ Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks _

_ And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70 _

_ And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23 _

_ And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways _

_ Maybe just the touch of a hand _ , 

 

Wade was starting to smile now, but he still looked like he didn’t quite believe what Peter was singing.

 

Peter intertwined their hand, realising how natural this felt. How right. Wade’s hand was warm and textured, suddenly Peter wondered if the scars hurt, and he loosened his grip slightly, raising their hands so that their palms were pressed against each other between them, he stepped closer, wanting to wrap himself in Wade. 

 

_ Oh me I fall in love with you every single day _

 

Peter’s eyes met Wade’s.

 

_ And I just wanna tell you I am _

 

“You are?” Wade whispered, sounding so scared Peter couldn’t help squeezing Wade’s hand a little harder in answer. 

 

_ So honey now _

 

Peter’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing. 

 

_ Take me into your loving arms _

 

Wade gasped when Peter stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly.

 

_ Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars _

_ Place your head on my beating heart _

 

Peter positioned his hand on Wade’s heart, gently letting their fingers untangle in the process.

 

_ I'm thinking out loud _

_ Maybe we found love right where we are _

 

Peter raised his hand resting it on Wade’s cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles on the rough skin. 

  
  


_ When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades _

_ And the crowds don't remember my name _

 

“They’ll never forget you,” Wade said, eyes sparkling. 

 

_ When my hands don't play the strings the same way, mm _

_ I know you will still love me the same _

 

“But I only care about you remembering,” Peter answered, before starting to sing again.

 

_ 'Cause honey your soul can never grow old, it's evergreen _

_ Baby your smile's forever in my mind and memory _

 

Peter ran his fingers over the corner of Wade’s lips receiving a shy smile in return. Peter knew that he would do ridiculous things to keep seeing that smile.

_ I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways _

_ Maybe it's all part of a plan _

 

Peter leaned his forehead against Wade’s his voice dropping so that only Wade could really hear his words. 

 

_ I'll just keep on making the same mistakes _

_ Hoping that you'll understand _

_ But baby now _

_ Take me into your loving arms _

 

Peter wrapped his arm around around Wade’s waist, his heart fluttering when Wade returned the action.

 

_ Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars _

 

Peter was dimly aware that the of the lights dimming and someone (he would have guessed Sam if he hadn’t been so completely focused on Wade) wolf whistling.

 

The music faded for a second, a second that was just long enough for Peter to lean forward and peck Wade lightly on the lips, his breath catching when he pulled away, before singing the final verse. The music soft enough now that he kneeled down and placed the mic gently on the floor, immediately wrapping his arm around Wade again when he stood up. 

 

_ I'm thinking out loud _

_ That maybe we found love right where we are _

 

Wade stepped closer, singing the last words with Peter, their voices mixing together in the near silence of the fading song. 

 

_ Oh maybe we found love right where we are _

 

Peter leaned forward, waiting for Wade to bridge the gap between them. Wade took a breath and the entire world seemed to fade away as he finally,  _ finally _ , leaned forward gently pressing their lips together. 

 

**_The end._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I'd adore some comments and thoughts. I might add a bonus chapter if enough people are interested.


End file.
